


Security Detail

by Arsenic



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco, The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-24
Updated: 2007-06-24
Packaged: 2020-10-26 03:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20735264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Panic gets a new bodyguard.





	Security Detail

**Author's Note:**

> Written for luciamad's prompt in the Fall in Love meme

When Zach went off and got married--Ryan was never, never forgiving him--Pete hired a new security guard. The new guy was sort of normal sized and a little fey looking and only had one arm and Ryan asked Pete, "Really? I mean, I thought we were important to your label."

"Don't fuck with him, Ryan," Pete said and sounded like he sort of meant it.

Alex listened to classic rock, which was sort of cliche so far as Ryan was concerned, but Alex seemed happy with it and not particularly open to suggestions, so Ryan figured it was his life.

Ryan could have mostly ignored Alex, who never, ever let them so much as scratch themselves, but didn't hug them or let Brendon climb him or do any of the things Zach always had, except for the morning that he came out of the bunks to find Alex shirtless on the couch, rubbing at the truncated end of his arm. His chest was a fair mass of scars.

Ryan was going to just slip back into the bunks but Alex said--without ever once looking over, "Sit down, Ryan."

Ryan remembered Pete's instructions, and sat.

"You don't like me," Alex said.

"You want to be liked?"

"It's not my foremost goal, but it would make things easier."

Ryan looked at Alex's chest. There had probably been a considerable number of people who hadn't liked Alex. "You should try listening to some punk. Or at least a little alternative. Something."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "That's the crux of the issue?"

"You don't like our music." That seemed self-evident to Ryan. What else could be all that important?

"You think I don't like your music?"

"You never say--"

"You need me to say?"

Ryan looked away. "Wouldn't hurt."

Alex crossed and sat in front of him. "Hurt, huh?"

Ryan couldn't help himself, couldn't stop himself from reaching out, touching fingers to the soft, puffed scar tissue of Alex's midriff. He shrugged.

"If I wasn't busy, I'd dance."

"To the music?" Ryan asked, looked up at Alex.

"To the music," Alex said.


End file.
